


Somehow the Longing

by poisontaster



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Massage, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-07
Updated: 2008-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff's got something waiting for him at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somehow the Longing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/gifts).



By the time the set nurse has given Jeff a clean bill of health—no hospital visit required, thank you—and released him back into the world, all he wants to do is go home and crawl into bed. After a handful of naproxen and a good belt of Irish whiskey.

Which is why, of course, it doesn't happen like that at all.

When he gets to the house, the lights are already on and the smell of grilling meat—rich, savory—catches at Jeff's stomach, reminding him that he hasn't eaten since a hastily snatched breakfast burrito early that morning.

The J's are home.

Despite the deep ache of his bruised ribs—and Jeff almost wishes they _were_ broken, because it would hurt less—the realization that they're here, that this is _home_ fills him with warmth as intense as if he'd already drunk his whiskey.

"Smells good," Benton, the PA they got to drive him home, comments as Jeff tries to figure out how to get upright without moving anything from his waist up. "I don't have anything nearly that good waiting at home for me."

"You don't know the half of it." Jeff chuckles as the door opens and Bisou comes running out, yipping gruffly. Jensen comes out more slowly than the dog, but his smile isn't any less wide.

"Hey, old man." Jensen hooks his fingers through Bisou's collar and hauls her back, keeping her from jumping up onto Jeff. "Thought you might need some help getting in."

"I'm not that old," Jeff grumps, wincing when he leans forward to scratch Bisou's chin. "Besides, if you really wanted to help, why didn't you send the Sasquatch?"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "He doesn't want anyone touching his precious steaks." Jensen sends Bisou back to the house with a swat to her butt and the dog sulks the whole way, making kissy-eyes over her shoulder at Jeff. "No, I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

He steadies Jeff at waist and shoulder so Jeff can push himself up without too much pain. Jeff knows he could get himself in the house without too much trouble—it's just bruises and scrapes, after all—but he likes the solid line of Jensen's body against his, hip to shoulder and if that means playing a little more feeble than he actually feels…well. He is an actor, after all.

He suspects Jensen knows his less-than-pure motives, by the way Jen's mouth curves up on the side.

Despite the smell of imminent dinner, Jensen steers Jeff into the bedroom and strips him carefully out of his clothes, whistling at the sunset colors spread all over Jeff's side, the angry red scrapes down his leg.

"You do know you're not _actually_ a superhero, right?" Jensen's fingers roam the edges of Jeff's contusions, too light to be more than ticklish. Jen's eyes are gleaming when he looks up, face coming close like he's going to kiss. "That this is just one of those fancy newfangled moving pictures?"

Jeff gives in and does what he's been wanting to since the car pulled up to the curb, pulling Jensen that last little bit closer for a slow, deep, satisfying kiss. Jensen gloat-laughs into it, but he opens his mouth for Jeff's tongue liquidly, eagerly.

After that, Jeff lets himself be eased down to the mattress. The whole bed is new, custom built, and he groans at the cloudlike firmness of the new mattress, despite the faint acridity of newness beneath equally custom sheets.

"Shhh." There's a whisper of cloth. Jeff turns his head to watch Jensen undress, cool expanses of skin warmed to pink at his nipples and the half-hard bob of his cock. Jensen's smile widens. "You lookin' at me? Are _you_ lookin' at _me_?"

Jeff holds his hand out. "Yeah. I'm looking at you, man."

For all his surface bravado, Jensen has a very pretty blush. He climbs onto the bed and throws a leg over Jeff's thighs to straddle him.

Jensen is a talented actor, no lie, but sometimes Jeff thinks all that talent's nothing to the gift in Jensen's hands. Jensen coats his fingers in some kind of warmed oil that smells like suntan lotion and then lays on, digging deeply into the knots in Jeff's neck, his shoulders, the expanse of his back. Jeff is properly—and vocally—appreciative, at least until his voice and strength give out, steadily turning into a limp noodle as Jensen works his patient way down.

"For all the noise two of you were making, I thought there'd be a lot more interesting stuff going on in here." Even pitched low, Jared's voice fills up the remaining space in the room, thick with laughter and rough with appreciation.

"I'll remember you said that the next time you're crying because you tripped over your giant feet on a stunt."

Jeff just whines piteously, when Jensen's hands stop working their magic on his tingling skin.

Jensen laughs and cranes the length of Jeff's body to nip sloppily at his mouth. "Turn over, old man. It's dinner time."

"We need to come up with another nickname," Jeff grumbles, flipping gingerly on his back. Jensen gives him just enough room to do it, before settling carefully in Jeff's lap. "It's damaging my ego."

"Weapons of mass destruction can't put a ding in that monster." Jared sinks onto the bed next to them, a plate of food in his hands. The meat's already been cut up and there's no silverware. A moment later, Bisou jumps up on the opposite side, looking expectant.

"Down!" Jared and Jensen command more or less in unison. Jeff tweaks a piece of steak from the plate and tosses it to her. Bisou snaps it up and then hops down, the wag of her tail curiously smug.

Jared sighs and shoves the plate into Jensen's hands. "I'll put her in the back with the other children," he says with an exasperated look at Jeff. Like he's any different with Harley and Sadie.

"What?" Jeff does his best to look innocent as Jensen shakes his head at him.

Jensen leans forward and captures Jeff's mouth with his own. It's slow and completely unlike the frantic desperation of their first kisses when it felt like everything about them was balanced on a razor's edge and there was never enough time.

Sometimes Jeff misses it, the dangerous electricity, the wildness. But on days like today, when he's sore and feeling his age and hating it, he thinks there are few things that can match coming home and finding the lights already on.  



End file.
